Already Lost
by sioniann
Summary: Draco Malfoy receives the Dark Mark.


ooooo

It burns. The fire courses over his skin, drawing thick, painful rivulets up his forearm and out as the design swirls and changes and solidifies until Draco can feel it pulsing and alive against his veins.

The thin line of Voldemort's mouth curls and Draco wonders if the Dark Lord is smiling. He hisses something in parseltongue, and Nagini slithers down the steps, circling around Draco once – inspecting him, he realizes, before exiting again.

"Good, Mr. Malfoy. Good." The tone of the voice is amused and dark, and Draco doesn't like the sound of it, but steels his demeanor nonetheless, looking Voldemort in the eye, as a Malfoy should.

Later, he will trace over the black stained serpent, and reassure himself that he's made the right choice.

ooooo

The ceiling is black above them as the Slytherins eat what is to be their last meal at Hogwarts. They will leave in the morning, all having close relatives who have conveniently taken ill. The ceiling is black, devoid of star or cloud or moon, and the twinkle in the Headmaster's eye, as he walks detachedly down the center aisle, is little more than a glimmer.

He knows, Draco thinks. He knows and he knows that he cannot do anything to stop us.

Draco sets his fork and knife down and folds his arms in his lap.

If he closes his eyes, he can imagine that the noisy chatter of the other students is actually something thicker and crueler.

ooooo

The Gryffindors have stopped playing fair. This Quidditch match is ugly and bludgers are flying left and right, but even Dumbledore seems too apathetic now to notice.

No one cares about this game. Everyone is thinking about the news that morning from the Prophet. _Lucius Malfoy escapes from Azkaban_.

Harry and Draco swoop and dive in a careless charade, chasing after some hint of gold neither one of them can see. Harry is ruthless now, and Draco is unsurprised by this, wondering why he isn't more brazen, himself.

His flying is lazy and uninspired. Gryffindor will win anyway, and Draco has more important things to concentrate on.

Somewhere down the field, Ginny Weasley lets out a hoot of triumph as she knocks a Slytherin chaser from their broom.

Draco doesn't realize he's falling too, until he notes, with some dismay, that Harry's fingernails have left red lines on the pale flesh of his forearm. He doesn't remember being pushed.

ooooo

Draco stares at himself in the mirror. His skin is glistening still from the shower. The unused towel is folded neatly on the counter and Draco's hair is sticky and matted to his forehead in thick damp strands. He looks at his skinny frame, thinking himself fortunate to not have any scars or freckles. He is unmarked, porcelain, pure and _Malfoy_. That's what matters.

He splashes water on his face and it feels like icy fingertips.

ooooo

Rain dusts his hair, and his pale, pointed features appear almost blue in the stormy half-light. He paces the corridor, listening to the excited murmurs of Nott and Zabini as they back their trunks. He wonders if they're just as dense as Crabbe and Goyle for not realizing that this isn't a holiday. This is war. This is bloodshed. This is death.

Draco is resigned about the marring slash of snake and skull over his flesh. He is a Malfoy and he is Draco and he will take the Mark like a man.

It seems rather pointless now, though.

Potter will win. That is what he does.

ooooo

Draco stands perfectly still, pureblood upbringing the only thing that keeps him from slumping and curling in on himself. He's heard the cries and screams from outside in the front atrium. It must be painful. He wonders vaguely if he will cry. He's never cried before. He tells himself that maybe he can't, that it's been bred out of him.

There is a hiss from the doorway, a parseltongue spell, dark magic.

Draco keeps his eyes open and his mouth tight and closed.

It begins – the lips of a skull edging their way over his pale skin, tattooing him forever with the dark insignia.

Draco takes comfort in the fact that this isn't the worst pain he will know in his lifetime.

He has confidence that Potter will favor him with a _Crucio_ before he kills him.

ooooo


End file.
